


To Plead a Pacifist

by ShaileneScarlet



Category: Among Us (Video Game), Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Among Us, Among Us AU, But he also fears death and just wants to bail tbh, Does the game have lore? I'm making my own lol., Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Freeform, Gen, I don't know how/what to tag really, No Major Character Death!, Or change rating wise!, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Parent OC's - Freeform, Past relationship Intrulogical!, Please let me know if I should tag something!, Remile is the only relationship but it's not a focus!, Tags May Change, There are Imposters but no one dies, Threats, Unimportant OC's - Freeform, Violence, Virgil Imposter, Virgil kind of wants to die in the beginning, Virgil's a poor bean that wants to not be who he is, no beta reader we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26982181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShaileneScarlet/pseuds/ShaileneScarlet
Summary: You can't control what you're born as. What you're born into.Virgil knew this well, the pit in your stomach that grows, daunting realizations that lead to panic- he shoved it away. Ignored it. Hid it. As best he could manage with the hunger within.It was a new day, a decision finally made under the guise of his parents well wishes, he would leave home. Sitting anxiously, waiting for the people he will meet. To travel amongst the stars.He didn't know how long he'd last, how long he'd stay hidden. This leap was a death sentence and he could only hope with rising fear that it would be swift.It's hard though, when the ones you meet quickly become more than your wishful end, comrades, friends... a true family. Soon all he wished for was a merciful end, but now he wants to keep the charade up as long as he can. Until his inevitable rejectionHe never thought that they'd stick with him, a monster in disguise.He never thought he'd learn something too, how the world and future are forever shifting.He may be born a monster, into a life he never wanted-But the future is a malleable option, he had control of what he could become.You're more than what you're born into.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	To Plead a Pacifist

People.

There were many, many people.

Families, loners, business folk with cases- to mere travelers perhaps taking a vacation with whatever they managed to save up, visiting whoever, going wherever. Each with a goal in mind, a destination to reach. Coming and going as they pleased.

So... many people.

Virgil clutched the strap of his backpack slung on his one shoulder, biting his lips into a line as he sucked in a breath.

It wasn’t like he didn’t expect it, there were plenty of people out front bustling in and out of vehicles and various doorways, walking and jogging to catch up to desks lines, children babbling away with either friends or family, a few babies cried over the general murmur surrounding him. All the usual weary rush tied to places of transportation.

Still didn’t make it any less unnerving, especially when he’s  _ alone _ .

Alone, in a foreign place he’s never been to before, expected to just-  _ know _ how to proceed. Even if it was a simple enough process to deduce, enter the spaceport, show ID, security checks, be left to take his seat in a supposedly private room, and wait for the arrival of complete strangers that will probably evaluate everything down to even his exhausted appearance- simple, right?

It couldn’t be any more stressful than a job interview, he mildly hoped.

But he rarely left his neighborhood on his own, much less to the next province over!

And once he managed to step foot inside the spaceport he stood rigid, it took almost all his forced willpower just to get his feet to step inside the door frame he lost his train of thought once he did. Eyes glued to his feet in a squint to quell his mind until the beginning of steps came into view, freezing upon raising his head.

His vision was assaulted by the sheer amount of weaving people below him all blurring into a mix of color, more gradually adding to the fray around him like a tight bubble down the stairs before him.

He honestly didn’t have the mind at the moment to tell if others were grumbling or cursing him out for standing in the way, even if they gave him confused or dirty looks. He was far too distracted.

Because he was looking up.

Up above the heads of the racing throng of people, above the lines waiting for tickets at the ticket gates, above the mere walls and doorways and extended halls beyond his peripherals in the U-shaped spaceport. Staring.

Because straight ahead from the top of the stairs, past metal rafters and walkways strewn about a secondary floor, windows as clear as air took up most of the white walls leading along the opposite side of the building, looking out upon the spaceport dockings.

And Virgil's eyes widened in awe.

From the outside of the spaceport nothing could be seen except the massive steel building's entrance and the guarded extensive concrete walls blocking anyone from entering through the sidelines. Borders made to stop stow-aways and potential sabotages to the crafts within. And the building itself was much too tall to see over, taller than even the biggest space crafts the port could- probably- land safely. All blocked off from peering eyes. Unless you could fly or something Virgil would muse.

But from the inside- you could see  _ everything _ .

The port dockings outside held numerous crafts, all ranging in shapes, sizes, and colors alike across the miles long flat asphalt. Front and center the largest and most formidable looking ship stood tall. A commercial spaceship traveler that looked not much unlike a mix of a space shuttle and a small cruise liner put together. It had to have had at least 3 floors for people  _ alone, _ the rest could be left to the imagination- the internal workings of the craft itself? Halls so long it was almost incomprehensible? More floors dedicated to traveling occupants? Probably any of those and more. The white craft reflected brightly the incoming sun rays, almost being the main supplier of light into the spaceport. Upon the backside of the craft in elegant letters stood for all to read, the Terra-Traveler.

Virgil may not be a history buff but he at least learned some of the basics about humans first successful extraplanetary flight. It was a titled craft famous for its extensive flight plans and history of being one of the first and largest spacecrafts to ever colonize outside of the solar system where humans once called home.

However it is known that the Terra-Traveler in front for all to see was simply an inherited title. The original is nearly thousands of years old now. But people say except for the updated tech, it's still based off of their parent craft that started the intergalactic race to explore and colonize as many habitable planets as possible.

And now the historic title goes to an intergalactic taxi system. A bit of a downgrade in grandeur he had to admit.

It was still quite a feat to lay eyes upon though.

Virgil was knocked out of his awestruck thoughts quite literally, a middle-aged stranger clipping his shoulder nearly sent him down the stairs he stood on top of. He was lucky to have been standing close to the middle handrail to catch himself in time.

Said stranger simply threw a sneering glance at him along with a small enough shout that made it obvious it was meant for him.

"Move it kid! Don't stand in the way!"

"S-sorry…" Virgil muttered out, knowing the stranger wouldn't hear him or much less would probably care to. And he wasn't a kid anyway! He was already 23!

He huffed, readjusting his grip on his backpack before starting to take the steps down the stairs like everyone else, melting into the crowd.

He wouldn't be going on that flight anyway. He wasn’t here for that, in fact he was probably one of the few people here going on a private flight- as much as he didn’t want to.

A “mission” of sorts- devised by his parents, he barely had a choice in the matter.

It was why the spaceports were so few on planets, and the main ones for commercial travel were so protective. With tall walls of concrete guarding the inside of the facility. What human would even attempt to sabotage or hitch a ride on a  _ spaceship _ of all things anyway? It would be a hopelessly deadly venture. But that’s not exactly the reason they were guarded as such. Spacecrafts were nearly impossible for humans to venture onto illegally, and even if they did they would be dead by take-off, spacecrafts had very few access points from the outside that any living being could manage to reach anyway. That's what his mother would tell him.

Unless you were an Imposter.

The walls only deterred them by illegal means, forced them to blend in more, made them harder to detect- not that they were easy to detect in the first place.

They were among humanity, across the stars, with many none-the-wiser until too late.

It was why Virgil wouldn’t be going on the commercial ship, all per the plan his parents shoved onto him. Going on such a ship would be a death sentence if the reason was to feed, even if he’s unnoticed, there were simply too many people for the plan his parents expected him to go for, too many witnesses, too much security, too much regulation. They prepared for ways to eliminate Imposters swiftly and keep kills to a minimum.

And his parents planned for him to  _ kill _ . Proudly. To be the Imposter they all wished he'd embrace.

Virgil shook his head, he didn’t like to think about his parents cynical plan, he refused to. He didn’t care if that made him dead to his parents, he could be for all he cared. They didn't know anyway.

He shuffled his way through the ticket lines and entry points once setting his feet down on the main floor, eyes occasionally flickering over labels in search of his section. As much as he didn’t want to go through his parents' plan, he’d might as well try to make the best of it. Even if he could easily turn tail and pretend he had no plans or he missed his chance- he wouldn’t have a place to go back to. So, Virgil sucked it up, and kept scanning over the heads of countless people. He'll deal with the inevitable hell once it comes.

The place he was looking for shouldn’t be too far in, a smaller travel section, it would lead down one of the branches in the building, considering the main entrance held the largest crafts upfront.

Weaving through and finally breaking his way out of the crowd his eyes landed on a desk in the corner. Few travelers walked towards the people behind the counter, apparently they didn’t get much traffic. Or the people that did go most often were so few because they were simply crew or maintenance workers. The sign above it read “Private Lines and Applications”.

_ Bingo _ .

Virgil bit his lip, there would be no turning back, today was the day he’d leave. Leave behind his family and old friends, his old neighborhood and hangouts would be nothing but a memory. Twisted as they’ve become.

His freehand tapped the front of his jean pocket absently. Doing a mental check yet again like he’d done several times before leaving the house that morning. It helped to calm him usually if he was expected to go somewhere for a long time.

After going through the list enough that he deemed sufficient he stuffed his hand in his pocket, gripping the ID card that would be his ticket off this planet, before forcing his twitching legs to walk forward.

He almost hoped the desk people wouldn’t notice him as he strode up, staring at the edge of the counter instead of the person's face. From the corner of his gaze he could see the human behind the front counter perk up however, taking their eyes off the computer before them.

“Hello! How may I help you sir?” The person spoke with a smile, it forced Virgil to look up at them- her it seemed- with wide eyes, not expecting such a jovial tone.

“I uh-” his eyes shot down, worming his hand out of his pocket to produce his ID to the lady. “I’m uh, here for a processed application- to… Join a crew?” He posed it as an uncertain question, was that how they phrased it? He didn’t know. Didn’t seem to matter much either as the lady behind the counter managed to understand him enough with a nod.

Taking his ID the lady’s smile flattened with apparent jowl lines, carefully scanning it before typing his information into the computer she was previously staring at. He could only fiddle with his hands under the counter as he waited. Every shifting second passing like a minute.

“Virgil… Fletcher.” She mumbled, scanning through a screen he couldn’t see. She soon returned her previous smile to him along with his ID once she seemed to find what she needed to look for. “Ah, here’s your application, it says you’re approved to board the  _ “Dreamer” _ ship. Is that right?” She raised a brow.

“Yes.” Virgil stated, tongue dry. 

It was really all he could supply in information checks. All he knew was the ship name, and that there were already four crewmates including the captain on the ship. He didn’t even get to look at the application his parents filled out- he could only hope that they didn’t put any falsified achievements on it. He was probably really underqualified for such a position…

Though he did remember that the crew offering the position had very minimal requirements. Just don't be an asshole he guessed.

None-the-less the lady smiled still, eyes softening with faint understanding, another nod showed she accepted his statement.

“Well all that’s left for you hon’ is to go through a security check past the gates, and there should be a waiting room connected to the Dreamers docking port-” she checked the screen again and pointed down the hall, “room 27 on the right hand side.”

Virgil nodded in silent thanks, finally stuffing his ID back into his pocket before shoving half his arm into his hoodie pocket, fiddling with an MP3 player. He stalled before walking away.

“...Are they already here?” He’d feel awkward just walking into a room of waiting strangers. What if he interrupts something? What if they’d been waiting for hours now? They could be angry or disappointed- though he honestly believes they’ll be disappointed with him eventually- he really didn’t want them to hate him before he even met them.

A small voice in the back of his head told him it might be for the best if they did.

The lady pursed her lips.

“Not that I recall, they’re one of the few small travelers to stop here today, they just docked this morning- eight I believe- I don’t recall having seen them since then.” She scrolled through her computer again. “They should be showing up soon though if they’re expecting you.”

His shoulders fell marginally, at least it was a small weight off him, he could wait in silence until the time came. It’ll help him mentally prepare at least.

“Thanks… that’s all I have to ask.” He turned to the gate to start his security check, shouldn’t take long and soon he’d be alone with his thoughts.

“Have a safe trip!” the lady called one last time. He acknowledged it with a half-hearted wave. Be safe… yeah.

Ironic, because he’s sure if he was any other monster it would be anything but.

His parents' plan was simple- to sabotage a small crew of humans. To feed live. It would be  _ so much easier _ to infiltrate a smaller crew than risk mass panic on a huge ship his mother would explain to him time and time again, a smile plastered on her face almost with a fond musing to it. It would be best for an Imposter his age to “feed wild” as she put it. To feel the thrill. To dismantle the trust between the lives of a close-knit crew that don’t have a way out. To sink your teeth into the bloodstream and watch as their struggles stilled with a dying light-.

Virgil took in a shaky breath as nausea twisted his stomach.

He hated it.

He hated All. Of. It.

All the explanations, the sickly glee, the pushing of how it’s “in his nature” and that “he’ll come around in due time”. The stories, the nonchalant manners, the destruction, the lies, the  _ meat _ .

_ Oh the meat- _ .

He swallowed the stinging bile that wanted to escape his throat. Instead focusing on his backpacks contents as he reached the scanners and security guards.

He slung his bag down gently, the guards advising him if he had any electronics, to put them in the shallow bin for his bag check, along with anything else on him so the detectors wouldn’t go off. He complied, easily and distractedly paying attention to what he pulled out, counting as he went to bite back his nerves.

His laptop.  _ 1,  _ he mumbled under his breath.

Chargers.  _ 2 of them so- 3 _ .

He dug out his MP3 player.  _ 4 _ .

His headphones next- wait where were his headphones!?

His mind buzzed with the barely in-check anxiety he felt flaring up again. Rummaging through his bag, his hand flitting about frantically, under his clothes, in the back pocket, he even unzipped the front which he was sure held nothing. He paused upon checking each spot, trying to feign calm.

He noticed one of the security guards gave him an odd look. Was he mumbling too loud? Should he stop counting? Or did he start looking like a lunatic? Wouldn’t be a surprising conclusion.

His skin chilled- was he pale?

_ Did he look sick? _

His hand struck heavy plastic. A phone, one he brought along after disposing of the one his parents had contact with. Not what he was looking for but he counted it anyway, this time mentally.  _ 5 _ .

His bag was effectively empty of all electronics.

But his headphones had to still be  _ in there somewhere- _ oh. They were... still on his neck.

_ That made 6 _ . He noted with an airy inward chuckle, his neck feeling oh-so bare. 

Shoulders dropping fully now, all he had to do was sling the bag onto the scanner belt and he’ll be on his way. Finally allowed to rest for an uncertain amount of time and contemplate.

He still held his breath, silently wishing that no questions would be asked as he continued.

Security walked him through the rest, no buzzers, no calls, a seamless pass. He sighed.

He recounted over the items as he put them back in, each number floating through his head as he began to calm. He left there shortly enough.

If he reacted that badly on his first check-in he could only imagine how badly he’d act upon the crew’s arrival. And just how badly things might progress.

It was too late to try turning back, he had to make do with what he could from here on out.

Finally finding the room number he wormed his way through the door to be met by a small empty room. Just as he hoped.

It looked like any other small waiting room, a square table to his right was against the wall, only four chairs were stationed at each corner along with a cheap coffee maker set in the rooms corner, fitting for a small crew he supposed, would be good to sit down and cut to the chase on objectives or rest after a long arrival. More chairs lined up against the back wall with several windows, blinds open to reveal the smaller docking ports on the buildings far side. There was also another door beyond the table, he could only assume it’d lead to the designated ship port he’d be venturing onto soon.

Well… not too soon.

Virgil decided to plop down on one of the several chairs against the wall, slinging his backpack on the seat next to him proceeding to slump over both it and the back of his chair. His feet were killing him at this point. Spending quite a few hours on a train standing and then roughly walking the rest of the way to a space port could do that to ya’.

Fishing out his headphones he connected the MP3 before comfortably settling it on his head. Listening to music is better than waiting out the silence he’d have to endure otherwise for an undetermined amount of time. Music was always better than silence.

Silence made his thoughts too loud.

A few taps and the headphones burst to life, drowning out the lifeless room before him. Not too loud though, if he were to take the precious time he had now to think of a possible future he didn’t want to get startled if the crew were to show up without him realizing.

That would probably be a bad first impression huh?

Would they be put off by someone listening to music, almost appearing unaware? He turned the volume down a bit- or should he turn it off all together? No, who doesn’t listen to music if they expect a wait? It was a casual thing, anyone would be doing it… But should he appear more professional and attentive? They’d ask him questions right, so he should at least try to put on an appealing act- but then that would be deceiving and he’s going to be with them for a long time and keeping up a façade for that long would be  _ exhausting _ \- so then he probably shouldn’t-?

_ Stop it Virgil. _

He shook his head, music quieting as it came to a close and another began. First impressions aren't everything. He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

But it was true though, he didn’t know what they’d be expecting nor wanting in a crewmate. Maybe they were just desperate to fill in a crewmate quota or something if they picked him of all people. He had no experience in flying, or space travel, hell he could barely work in a team anyway-!

Virgil closed his eyes and groaned, head falling on the back of the chair.

These thoughts would get him no-where.

He really wished he got a handle on that application before his parents sent it out.

It wouldn’t matter in the end anyway, he’ll be dead by the end of this no matter what. He wasn’t willing to go through with it himself, but that’s the only ending he could imagine. As crude as it sounded.

That was his only plan, he wouldn’t be the monster even if his life depended on it. He’ll settle with the crew for as long as he could… and reveal himself. Eventually. There was no out for him.

He opened his eyes, music once again sweeping upward. His eyes fell on the clear yellow sky, dual suns high above the silver sheen of the roof and craft behind him.

He shifted, glancing around the outer docks before landing on the craft itself.

It was smaller than the Terra-Traveler that was for sure, but still an impressive size no less. It looked more like an average white space shuttle except for the double layers of windows wrapping around. Two floors like most small travelers, three or more counting the necessary innards.

His eyes caught on indented lettering along the side, chipped paint filling it in. Faded red flecked along the edges under a mostly solid grey coat- or perhaps it was an outline of red to make it stand out better against the overall white body? Either way it made it appear pretty old. An older model too by the looks of it maybe. Well, that’s gotta have some history to it Virgil mused.

_ So that’s the Dreamer _ .

It’ll be an interesting place to die on. Maybe the crew would be some older folk with some good stories. That or they could be younger, a passed down ship in a family company line or something, adventurous and bright. That’s how those worked right?

All Virgil knew was that he’ll be stuck with them for a few weeks, and it’ll all be settled at the end of those dragged on days.

He wondered distantly if they were nice as he stared at the ship, if they were then maybe it’ll be a merciful end to him. Or he’ll leave a scar upon them all. He’d worry about becoming too friendly with them if that were the case.

If they were more strict and hard on him then in the end it’ll be swift and unforgiving, or full of fear in his final moments. But it’d prove that they’re tough and capable in their job he supposed. He would be insignificant, a mistake they could brush off.

Either way it’s an end.

He just didn’t know which he hoped for more.

Humming along to the dreary melody his mind drifted more, to the day he found out, this morning as he was sent away, the planet he's grown so accustomed to, a childhood… everything and anything his mind would supply.

Perhaps he’d be able to make some nice memories before the inevitable.

His head shot up as the door he came through was slammed open, a muffled thud heard over the start of another song. Eyes meeting the forms of two humans attempting to worm their way through the door like he had before… but simultaneously.

One was taller than the other, arm still out holding the door open while the other slightly shorter person squished themselves under their arm. The one holding the door wore a grey tank top with some dark green shorts, a dark ashy haired brunet with… a streak of grey in the front? A mustache too. They had a wild look in their green eyes as they tried to enter- and by the movement Virgil couldn’t help but notice a few scattered scars along their body, danger prone perhaps? The shorter one struggling to pass had on a simple light blue shirt and grey pants, blue eyes squinting behind black glasses at their tormentor in amusement as the others hand shoved their head down a bit through lighter brown locks.

The taller of the two seemed to have shouted something at him upon entering, but he didn’t hear what it was over his headphones.

So far… not what he expected if he had to be honest.

But he straightened himself out, taking a hand to shove his headphones down onto his neck after turning it off. He still didn’t quite catch what the two were saying but they managed to make their way through the door, the taller one grinning in triumph while the other seemed to pout as they turned to each other fully, something about introductions or greeting and whatever.

Were these two really going to be his crewmates? They both seemed… childish, for a lack of better words. He didn’t know if he should speak up now or wait until they turned their attention back to him because they appeared to still be bickering but a bit quieter this time.

“Is that really how you’re gonna greet a new fellow crewmate?” A masculine voice piped up from behind the two. If the others hadn’t turned to the voice Virgil wouldn’t have noticed another person standing in the still open doorway, another two actually if he could distinguish the differing brunets beyond them.

They stepped out from behind the others too, this one was as tall as the first guy, but a caramel brunet, wearing a red hoodie with some kind of crown design on it and black sweats, brown eyes bounced onto him for less than a second and then fixating back to the other two.

“With an entrance like that you could scare anyone shitless, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d decline coming along from that alone.” They smirked, voice loud and a bit pretentious. 

_ Thanks for shoving words down my throat dude _ . Virgil raised an eyebrow at him, now this guy almost seemed like a douche.

The taller one simply glared at him while the shorter one seemed to contemplate the statement with a small apologetic smile thrown towards him.

“Probably not the best of entrances even I’ll have to admit, you two really couldn’t enter like normal human beings? Remus I expected, but you too Patton? You’re not children.” A fourth voice spoke, more controlled and monotoned than anything, a bit condescending at the end if not fully exasperated.

It was another guy with dark brown hair, black glasses matching the shorter one in front of dark grey eyes, wearing a navy blue dress shirt and dark blue tie along with black slacks matching the whole outfit. Professional much? He even had a pen clipped into his front pocket!

“I uh… might’ve gotten a bit too excited about meeting a new crewmate.” The shortest of them answered, Patton, Virgil guessed, wringing their wrists.

“Where’s the fun in a ‘normal-entrance’ anyway?” The taller whined, Remus he assumed, doing air quotes around the words. “Having a dramatic entrance is the best way to get to know someone! Ya gotta give them substance! It’s all about the first impressions!” They seemed to be getting more and more dramatic as they went on. He probably would’ve continued if the caramel brunet hadn’t butted in.

“I could kick your butt bro if you really want to leave an impression.” The dude chuckled. Brothers, great. Other than their hair and eyes they did look similar enough, maybe.

“Aw Ro you wouldn’t dare~.” Remus’ face split into a cheshire grin. ‘Shit-eating’ Virgil would describe it as, if not also full of taunting provocation.

“Can we not?” The one in the tie groaned, Patton appeared to share the sentiment, almost going to stand between them complacently. Instead they patted Remus’ shoulder lightly as a way to get them to stop and presumably focus. The two rolled their eyes and shrugged, crossing their arms when turning to Virgil. Who really didn’t know how to proceed with the turn of attention.

The one in the tie pushed past them, staring directly at Virgil before adjusting his glasses and giving him a small smile.

“Sorry for the impromptu entrance, I promise these guys aren’t…” His right eye twitched with a side glance, “Usually... like this. All the time anyway.”

The other’s settled into a focused silence eventually. Remus huffing a quiet laugh before doing so which caused the Ro guy to give him a side glare.

“We are the Dreamer crew.” The tie-guy gestured to the others behind him, the one Remus called ‘Ro’ simply nodded while both Remus and Patton gave him a small welcoming wave. Virgil didn’t have time to do anything but awkwardly half-smile before the tie-guy started again and Virgil’s eyes jumped up to him. “I am Logan, the captain, and we are glad to welcome you as a new member of our crew.”

Virgil froze, staring owlish at Logan.

He didn’t even say anything… they barely introduced themselves yet and he was already accepted?

He glanced at the others again, nothing but smiling faces. Remus and Patton appeared to be quite literally bouncing in place with excitement, and he didn’t miss this ‘Ro’ character's broadening grin. Even Logan’s smile softened within seconds after the words left his mouth.

“Wh- what?” Virgil choked out.

This was going to be quite the unexpected albeit interesting time of his life wasn’t it?

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this wasn't too boring! I'll admit I've read through this so many times I don't even know if it's good anymore or too jumbled. This chapter is another rough draft I felt was just, done enough? I guess? So it's probably kinda crappy and I don't realize. I do know it's a lot of exposition and semi-vague background, it is a prologue/first chapter though so setting up a story is gonna be like that right? I want to promise that it'll get better but as I need to write so much still I really can't promise anything as of yet.  
> It's a new unexpected story admittedly... I have around 11 Sanders Sides stories to develop!!! Which doesn't include my comic/art ideas that could be expanded upon story wise! And what do I do? Make a new one at the start of October!  
> I've never played Among Us personally but from what I've seen it looks like a fun game! And it got me thinking, especially since Thomas tweeted about it and seemed to encourage it, a... "small" AU was born.  
> This is actually the most I've planned in one night, 39 main color coded bullet-points categorized under the premise of story arcs, all in the 2nd day of October! And honestly, if I did the estimated math correctly this story will be... almost 150-200 chapters??? *^* *o* All I can say is why the hell can't my other stories come to me this easily!? Maybe I just found my planning style lol, never done color-coded bullets and arcs before. I hope people will like this story! It's still under construction, both in story flow/pacing and world building (since it's freeform!), but I'm roughly 1/4th way through with the general bullet chapter planning and I already have 48~ chapters planned at the start of this draft's formation! Now all it takes is for my focus to stay on a single chapter long enough for me to write everything! ^w^;;  
> Which will probably take a long, long time. I started the draft on the 12th and it’s been several days later and all I have is the prologue finally finished! -m- So yeah… expect a wait I’m afraid, but I’m really into this story so hopefully this will be one of my first dedicated and finished works even if it takes months! I gotta learn to not edit as I go lol.  
> Constructive criticism is welcomed. As well as questions! But I probably won't give away much about future chapters, although I'd love to talk about my story(s) when prompted. :)


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